Five Uneasy Pieces

*****

Dr. Fein started his ten minutes thinking of Lila’s body, recalling the powerful urges he’d had the night before in his car. Her voice—like her body, so helpless, so fragile—only deep

ened the intensity of his desire for her. He had promised to call her in ten minutes. Dr. Fein wanted to think about how he could help Lila—but it was impossible with images of her, half-naked, giggling, pleading, sighing with pleasure, images that appeared one after another, rolling around in his head like a kaleidoscope. He finally gave in and, with a nervous glance at the clock, he locked his office door, grabbed a box of tissues, and indulged himself in the fastest self-gratification session he could recall having since puberty.

When finished, he sat spent for a moment, feeling himself growing limp on his sticky palm. He absently fingered himself as he considered his proposal. Yes, he could get the money—after making the proper arrangements. He could have her sign something for his files—to cover his ass, because Lord knows, her mind and story could shift like the wind. He’d refer her to another therapist. And after that he’d be free to help her in any way possible. He would be free even to see her—if she wanted that. And if she were grateful enough, it was quite conceivable that she would agree to see him. Perhaps even welcome the chance to do so.

After all, twenty grand could buy a whole lot of gratitude.

*****

Dr. Fein proposed his solution. Lila was wary of taking his money but ultimately agreed. He e-mailed her the termination letter, which she signed and returned to him.

They arranged to meet at a small park, about a forty-minute drive from his office. He would bring the cash in an old briefcase. Dr. Fein had it wired to him from an account he kept in Paraguay—an account he’d managed to keep secret from Sarah and her grasping lawyer.

Dr. Fein picked up the cash at a Western Union office. He carried the briefcase to his Lexus and set it on the passenger’s seat. He smiled and started the car. With the money he gave her, she’d be free again. Or, to be more precise, in debt to him, not those ruthless thugs. Her debt to him would be one of gratitude. And he would never hold that over her, use it to hurt her.

He wondered if she would be free for dinner that night. Maybe Saturday.

*****

As he drove to the park, Dr. Fein listened to an oldies station on the radio. He loved oldies. Sarah always called him “an old fart” and couldn’t understand why he refused to listen to more contemporary music. But the old music reminded Dr. Fein of better times. A time when the world seemed nicer. The rules about everything were clearer, better defined then. Today the rules had been thrown out, and no one knew how to act, what to do. He knew that from listening to his patients.

Sarah’s taunting words came back to him as he hummed along to the Lovin’ Spoonful. How can you listen to this all the time? Could we please change the station just this once? He could almost picture her beside him, whining and pouting—except that the briefcase was there, which made him think of Lila. Lila, smiling, perhaps even hugging him with joy after he gave it to her.

The thought of her breasts pressed against his body made Dr. Fein grin from ear to ear.

Dr. Fein parked the silver Lexus, grabbed the briefcase, and walked over a grassy knoll toward a bench near a stand of trees by a lake. It was early afternoon, and the park looked deserted. Dr. Fein hiked down the gentle slope. The day wasn’t overly warm, but he could feel sweat collect under his arms, dampening his shirt. Dr. Fein wasn’t in bad shape for a man in his early fifties, but his breath came hard and fast, as if he’d been running a sprint instead of strolling down a hill. He was surprised at how winded he felt by the time he’d reached the bench. He’d seen only one car in the lot—an old Toyota that he assumed was Lila’s. But Lila wasn’t waiting for him.

The bench was empty. Dr. Fein wiped his brow and took a seat, placing the briefcase on his lap.

Glancing around him, Dr. Fein wondered if anyone he knew would see him. Not likely, he thought, but not impossible, either. He hoped Lila would get there soon.

Dr. Fein watched a pair of ducks paddling across the lake. He’d heard mallards mated for life. He couldn’t imagine such a thing. Spending the rest of his life with Sarah would have been unbearable.

Lila, on the other hand ... Dr. Fein drifted into a reverie, imagining Lila cuddling naked beside him in bed. Her head on his shoulder as he stroked her hair and whispered, “It’s okay. I’m here now.”

The ducks had just reached the shore when the back of his skull exploded with pain and everything went black.

*****

The first thing Dr. Fein noticed when he opened his eyes were trees. He was seated on a bare patch of dirt surrounded by trees, with his legs slightly parted and extended before him. Pain radiated in waves from the back of his head. Blinking, he tried to get his bearings.

The terrain was hilly. He was on a slope facing uphill. His hands were tied behind him, digging into his back. And something propped him up from behind. As he twisted to glance over his shoulder, his hands scraped against a hard surface—a boulder, as it turned out. A boulder the size of a VW bug. Dr. Fein didn’t think he was in the park anymore.

He froze at the sound of footsteps.

Someone trudged up the slope behind him. More than one person. Dr. Fein’s heart raced. In vain he tried to free his hands from whatever was restraining them. His head pounded as he persisted in his fruitless efforts. He finally stopped, gasping for breath.

A man chuckled.

Dr. Fein looked toward the sound and, several feet to his right, saw the two men who’d been to see Lila. Both of them were smiling, but neither looked friendly.

Dr. Fein tried to ignore the pain screaming through his skull. He licked his dry lips, cleared his throat, and said, “What’s going on here?” with all the authority he could muster.

He realized as he said it how preposterous the question must sound. A demand for an explanation of what was happening would sound ludicrous, he thought, coming from a man sitting in the dirt with his hands bound behind his back. Apparently the two men agreed, for their smiles broadened, and they started laughing. And their laughter was no friendlier than their smiles.

Dr. Fein felt an icy ball of fear congeal in his stomach. Had the men followed Lila to the park? “Where’s Lila?” he demanded. “What have you done to her?”